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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27871910">Can't Keep My Hands Off You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/biscuitysguise/pseuds/biscuitysguise'>biscuitysguise</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dani's Haikyuu Kinkmas 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Is Sleep Deprived, Could Be Canon, Dani's HQ Kinkmas: day 3 - dry humping, Dry Humping, M/M, Porn With Plot, Safe Sane and Consensual, The Inherent Eroticism of a Finely Tailored Suit, how many times does ushi say iwa's name, idk - Freeform, idk bro this one ran away from me, let's play a little game, maybe more like plot with porn idk, they're actually rly soft ngl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:55:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27871910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/biscuitysguise/pseuds/biscuitysguise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows that they're supposed to be professional, but Wakatoshi just looks so good in his tuxedo that Hajime can't really help it. </p>
<p>How long they can last with their professional manner, well.... <br/>Maybe a little less than either of them might have hoped</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Ushijima Wakatoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dani's Haikyuu Kinkmas 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037205</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can't Keep My Hands Off You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi hello welcome to kinkmas day 3 </p>
<p>i was serious abt the challenge in the tags hsfdkfsd comment a number if u think u caught them all</p>
<p>i m so sleeby pls enjoy the fruits of my labour</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hajime will never be able to express the amount of gratitude that he feels for being the trainer for Japan’s national volleyball team. Not only does he get to do his best for the top volleyball players in the country, but he also gets to spend more time with his fiancé. Since he also is well-acquainted with most of the players on the team, he gets little perks, as well. This ranges from grabbing snacks with the team to going to full-blown dinner parties. He even gets to hit the gym with them, and he lifts just as much as the cannon of the team, Ushijima Wakatoshi. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, Wakatoshi. They had taken interest in each other in their final year of high school, but had never gotten any further than clipped conversations in public and secretive kisses when they were alone, knowing that they were going different paths. Wakatoshi wanted to be a professional volleyball player, while Hajime knew he wanted to go into sports science. Wakatoshi would simply continue into the higher leagues, while Hajime would attend higher education overseas to get a degree. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>However, once they met in California, any qualms that they would have had with pursuing a relationship were overridden by the sheer joy of seeing each other again. Being around Wakatoshi had always felt natural to Hajime, and being </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> him was more of the same. Things continued easily between them, and here they are, engaged to be married. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fact that he and the team’s southpaw cannon are engaged is likely part of the reason that Hajime gets free access to a large percentage of the team’s outings; he’s the equivalent of a plus one that they already know. Nevertheless, that doesn’t make tonight’s charity gala venue any less impressive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> does Wakatoshi look just as delectable as the western hors d'oeuvres adorning the table. The tailored tuxedo fits him well, though the pants are admittedly maybe a little tight - not that Hajime’s complaining. They skim along his ass and his thick thighs, while leaving some of the curves to Hajime’s imagination - not that he doesn’t know those muscles by heart. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime’s glad that at least his tailcoat covers his ass, otherwise he might have had to take a break not long after arriving. He reminds himself that he’s not exactly a member of the team but that he instead is supposed to have a professional relationship with them and </span>
  <em>
    <span>furthermore</span>
  </em>
  <span> he is at a white tie charity event. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and tears his eyes away from his fiancé, distracting himself with the champagne glass in his hand by taking a gentle sip and slipping his other hand into his pocket. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Iwaizumi-san,” a deep voice says next to him, and Hajime tenses momentarily, startled, before relaxing at the familiarity of the sound. “I trust you are well?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ushijima-san,” Hajime replies, smiling up at his fiancé. “I am, and you?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am also well, thank you.” He nods his head once in acknowledgement and joins Hajime in looking around the room, soft classical piano music playing in the background. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They stand next to each other in silence, though it’s not uncomfortable. Their household is generally quiet anyways, save their dog whining for attention at any moment she isn’t in one of their laps. They talk, yes, but they also know each other well enough where they can follow each other’s train of thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Iwa-san,” Hinata calls from far enough away that it’s not entirely proper to be as loud as he is, earning himself a side eyed glare from Sakusa. “It’s good to see you!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime smiles. “We were at practice together all day, Hinata.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but still! You don’t wear a suit to practice!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a low rumble from Wakatoshi next to him, and Hajime chuckles, running his fingertips through the hair at the back of his head. “That’s true,” he concedes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hinata’s smile is infectious. “It looks really good, Iwa-san!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He is correct,” Wakatoshi murmurs quietly enough for only Hajime to hear. “That tuxedo is very becoming.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>See, now, if Hajime didn’t know Wakatoshi so well, he wouldn’t have noticed the note of lust in his voice. As it is, the two of them have been together for long enough that it’s more than noticeable. It makes him take a moment, sucking in a brief inhale before laughing on an exhale. “Thank you, Hinata,” he says, and then a quieter one directed at his fiancé, “thank you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are most welcome,” Wakatoshi muses in reply. The tremor in his voice is still evident. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They stand there in a comfortable silence once more, Hinata now occupied with something else, before Wakatoshi is called away by another guest. He offers her his arm as they take a turn about the room, leaving Hajime to his own devices. He taps his finger against the stem of his champagne flute, trying to find something to distract him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls, and Hajime turns to face a woman probably about his age. “I don’t think I’ve seen you on the team roster, may I ask your position?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Hajime says with a smile. “I’m not on the team, I’m their athletic trainer.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyebrows raise in interest. “Oh,” she replies, “I see. Can you tell me more about that?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime smiles again and offers his arm to her, which she takes. “It would be my pleasure.” They walk for a moment to a place further from next to the entryway, a little bit of a quieter place so they can talk, Hajime explaining to her anything she wants to know more about. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>About halfway through the conversation, Hajime feels another set of eyes on him. He waits until she turns slightly - growing bored in the conversation, as he expected, though she’s doing well to try and hide it - to flick his eyes over to the direction of the heavy gaze, seeing his fiancé leaning against a pillar on the other side of the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he looks good. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the woman’s disinterest, she keeps asking questions, seemingly wanting to keep his attention on her. He’s no stranger to what she’s doing; many people have tried to slip him their number after a conversation about sports that they didn’t really care about, finding Hajime attractive enough to make it worth their time. It becomes evident enough when they see the engagement band around his finger and immediately lost interest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wakatoshi’s still looking at him, his eyes growing more and more heavy lidded by the minute. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime doesn’t know how to turn this woman down - that has never been his strong suit. Everyone always went after Tooru in high school, so while he would survey the rejection from the point of view of a friend, he was never the one actually rejecting. And Tooru’s technique really only worked because he was already so popular in the school, not to mention that Hajime is now well on his way to thirty years old and far too old for such tasteless tactics. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he continues the conversation, hoping to drag it out until she can no longer deny the fact that she’s bored out of her mind. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pardon me,” comes Wakatoshi’s voice. Hajime can’t fight off the small smile that creeps over his lips, chuckling internally as the woman’s eyes widen as she looks up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, that is Japan’s long-time ace,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wants to say. Instead, he makes a proper introduction. “Madam, this is Ushijima Wakatoshi, wing spiker of Japan’s national volleyball team.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nice to meet you,” the woman says, and Wakatoshi makes a proper bow in her direction before laying a hand on Hajime’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I see you’ve met my fiancé,” he remarks bluntly. “I trust you enjoyed each other’s company?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-yes,” she stammers. “fiancé? Did I hear that right?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wakatoshi nods, squeezing Hajime’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Hajime confirms. “We’re engaged to be married.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He holds back the urge to sigh as a deep blush forms at her temples and crawls its way down to her cheeks. “Ah, I see,” she murmurs. “Excuse me, would you?” And then she’s gone, walking as fast as she can without seeming desperate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wakatoshi,” Hajime hums, leaning back into the broad expanse of his fiancé’s chest. “Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to scare her away?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wakatoshi snorts softly. “I think you understand why I am not fond of assorted people, ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hitting on</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. It doesn’t feel right. I usually restrain the urge to declare to the world that you are mine, but tonight felt off.” He hums, and Hajime stands upright again. They step apart enough to face each other while talking, and he can’t help but already miss the feeling of his fiancé sturdy beneath him. “I could not help myself. I apologise.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No need,” Hajime says. “Although, it is kind of inconsiderate of you to drive her away and humiliate her like that.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Again,” Wakatoshi replies, “I apologise, though to some extent I simply could not help myself. You look… you look incredible, Hajime. I am somewhat loathe to the fact that we have to maintain a professional demeanour the entire time we are here. I would like to take you somewhere we can be alone and--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wakatoshi,” Hajime cuts in, the tips of his ears burning red. His gaze bounces around the room as he tries to dispel what his fiancé had been saying from his mind, but nothing can help him quite escape the low tone and incessant </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hajime.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>God,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the way he says his name, like that one word is the only thing keeping him from doing something that would be strongly advised against at a gala. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The soft classical music continues, filling the silence that falls between them. Hajime almost can’t even hear it over the frantic thumping of his heart in his ears. He makes an effort to quiet his breathing, trying to keep himself from gulping down frantic lungfuls of air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They aren’t interrupted again, and the tension between them only grows. They stand next to each other at a distance that is maybe a little too close to be acceptable for colleagues, as though they are drawn to one another. The air is thick, unsaid words hanging between them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime can hear Wakatoshi’s breathing pick up behind him, and his ability to simply stand there and do nothing wears thin. His fingers tighten around the stem of his champagne flute, until he’s sure he’s nearly breaking it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wakatoshi swallows audibly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hajime,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he breathes, and it’s all over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime’s last shred of self-preservation and dignity snaps, and he prides himself in the way he manages to remember to set his glass down on the table behind him before giving his fiancé a significant glance and walking brusquely away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He weaves his way through crowds of fancy guests and volleyball players doing their best to look just as fancy, working his way over to where he knows they won’t be disturbed. He pushes his way towards the broom closet, knowing it will be a little cramped, but it’s their best bet. It’s far enough away from the crowd that they likely won’t be heard, whatever they plan to do, and it has a little deadbolt on it as well that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thankfully </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t slid home before the gala took the venue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t have to turn around to know he’s being followed, Wakatoshi’s footsteps light but hurried behind him. He doesn’t dare turn around, lest he forget about the broom closet entirely and pounce on his fiancé in the midst of the crowd. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It turns out that he doesn’t necessarily have to worry about himself pouncing on Wakatoshi; before his hand can grasp the doorknob, broad hands are on his waist. He’s picked up - he has to stand on tiptoe to keep any of his weight on his own two feet - and pressed against the door, and Wakatoshi’s breath comes hot on his ear. </span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hajime,” he whispers, and the man in question has to hold back a low moan. “Hajime, you look so good in this tuxedo, I don’t know how I let you out of the house and into a place where the general public could see you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe it was just knowing that we would both be here that convinced you it was okay.” Hajime tilts his head back onto Wakatoshi’s shoulder, letting himself be pressed against the door. He can feel the arousal from earlier that he had willed away coming back at full force, his cock starting to fill out in his trousers. “Step back a moment so we can have a bit of privacy, yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well,” Wakatoshi breathes out on an exhale, already sounding well on his way to ruin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thank the gods above for inward-opening doors. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They both step into the little room, and Hajime was right, it’s tight. Two full grown men can hardly fit in such a small space comfortably… if they’re standing a ways apart, which Hajime and Wakatoshi are decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.</span>
  </em>
  <span> As soon as the door is shut, Hajime is once more pushed against the door, though this time it’s his back against the thick wood, leaving plenty of room for his now fully hard cock to be seen tenting his slacks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t go unnoticed. Before long, there’s a hand gently tracing the outline of his dick through his pants, sliding up to thumb over the head. “Hajime,” Wakatoshi murmurs again, saying his name like a prayer. “You are so perfect, Hajime.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime can’t do anything but gasp, dropping his head back against the door. Wakatoshi crowds into his space, and the difference between them in height is made evident as he slots a thigh between Hajime’s. “Wakatoshi, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please,</span>
  </em>
  <span> more.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you were trying to maintain your composure?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, well, that was before you took it and threw it out the window, wasn’t it?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is true,” Wakatoshi muses. “Very well, I can give you what you ask.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He presses his thigh up, and Hajime lets out a stuttered moan that is quickly silenced by Wakatoshi’s hand over his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fingers dig into his cheek and his breath comes heavily through his nose. He lets Wakatoshi pull his head down onto his chest, broken whimpers muffled by the fabric that hugs his thick muscle so wonderfully. The hand that was over his mouth brushes along his cheekbone tenderly, brushing into his hair behind his ear and sliding along to cup the back of his head, while Wakatoshi’s other arm wraps around the back of his torso; he’s held tightly enough that he can feel Wakatoshi’s heart thumping wildly in his chest. He rolls his hips forwards into his fiance’s thigh, feeling Wakatoshi’s own erection as he does so. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a strange sense of satisfaction that washes over Hajime at the idea that he looks good enough in a suit to turn on the usually stoic gentle giant that is Ushijima Wakatoshi, especially to this extent. It feels like an accomplishment, almost; there used to be no way that he could be distracted - especially not by people looking attractive or wearing something that suits them, but he got one look at Hajime in a tux and decided to call it a night. Yeah, he feels pretty powerful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hajime is torn out of his thoughts as Wakatoshi’s arm around his back tightens, pulling him impossibly closer. The friction between them is </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Hajime has to keep reminding himself that he is at a public function with a bunch of people who are paying good money to help this team continue to grow, and that dry humping somebody at one of these functions is generally very frowned upon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you be quiet for me, Hajime?” Wakatoshi asks, and it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fair</span>
  </em>
  <span> how he can turn Hajime on even more simply by saying his given name. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s another thing about him. He seems to enjoy the way Hajime’s name rolls around his mouth, and he acts as though he savours it every time he says it. On top of that, it’s always said like he’s speaking to a king; the usually reserved Wakatoshi that everyone else sees makes a prayer out of Hajime’s name when they’re alone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so,” Hajime whispers back, trying his best not to let his emotions run rampant. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” With the next roll of his hips, Wakatoshi’s hands both slide down to grasp at Hajime’s waist. “You feel… so good against me, Hajime.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The low timbre of his voice really does something to Hajime while he tries to keep himself from outright moaning at the friction that sends pleasure zinging up his spine. “‘Toshi, ‘Toshi </span>
  <em>
    <span>please,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he says, feeling the urge to lean forward and take Wakatoshi’s pec between his teeth so he has something to help him block the sound. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard,</span>
  </em>
  <span> trying not to make any noise. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wakatoshi pops the button on his slacks and pulls at his zipper. Suddenly all of the sensations that had been so amazing moments ago are dialled all the way up, and Hajime shudders at the closer contact. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ, ‘Toshi, I’ll come if you keep this up,” he has the mind to pant out - a warning, so Wakatoshi isn’t surprised by it. They can’t afford to be caught; they’ll have to go directly to the men’s room to freshen up immediately after this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do it, then. Nothing is holding you back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hajime,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wakatoshi murmurs, and the way his name is said sends Hajime hurtling over the edge. His muscles seize up and his brow furrows, mouth dropping open in a silent moan. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wave after wave of pleasure courses through him. His eyes slide shut as Wakatoshi leans forward and presses a kiss to his neck. There’s a quiet grunt and then some panting, and then all is quiet in the broom closet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck just happened,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hajime thinks to himself, though all thought is wiped from his mind pretty quickly after the first press of Wakatoshi’s lips against his own. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments keep me going - they'll likely be the reason I'm able to make it back tomorrow with the next kink. </p>
<p>I do have a nsfw twt (@biscuitysguise) if you're interested, though i'm admittedly significantly more active on my main (@biscuityskies)</p>
<p>I hope to see you all tomorrow!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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